Eldritch

Chapter 24

Sheriff Ryan sits opposite his ninety four year old grandfather. A drip connected to him on his hospital bed, he breathes in and out through his oxygen mask, coughing as he does.

'How's work going?' he asks.

The Sheriff sighs. He wishes he could say "fine" and that he's protecting the citizens of Starryton, but that'd be a lie. The truth is, he feels like he's letting the town down. A murder of a teenage girl. The disappearance of three teenagers. Random animal attacks. All unsolved. And piling on top of him. As well as the bad media image. People scared to allow their teenage sons and daughters out. Everyone arriving back home for six o clock so that the streets are vacant by nightfall.

It all started with Abi Prendergast's death, he thinks. Thereafter, her associates start vanishing. But, what of the animal attacks? I doubt they're linked. How could they be?

The Sheriff pinches the bridge of his nose. 'I'll be honest, Grandpa, it's not going great. There's a lot going on that we're struggling to piece together.'

'What's going on?' he whispers, readjusting his oxygen mask as he does.

'There's been a murder, and some disappearances, and then there's been a few animal attacks.'

His grandfather wheezes in and out. 'Just the smoker in me,' he cackles as he pushes out struggled breaths. 'You make sure you stay off those things, they're no good for you.'

The Sheriff nods. 'Grandpa, I've been off them two years.'

'Good for you,' he murmurs. Then, the frail old man makes a sudden jolt upwards, his eyes wide in delayed reaction to his grandson. 'Animal attacks, you say? We don't often have those in Starryton.'

'No, we don't,' he says. 'Which is why we're finding it so hard to determine the species of animal that's doing it.'

A muffled response comes from his grandfather, who he leans closer to. 'What?'

'15,' he whispers. '1915. I was a deputy then. I distinctly remember. That was the only period we dealt with animal attacks. Whatever it was, it tore its victims apart with its claws and feasted on the innards and flesh. It was a gruesome period in my career.'

'That's exactly what's happening now. Did you ever find out what kind of animal it was?'

'No,' he says. 'But that's probably because I was put on a different case at that time. To investigate the disappearance of a group of children.'

Sheriff Ryan's eyes widen. 'A group of children vanished?'

'No,' he coughs. 'They went one by one, a little time apart at a time. But, the strange thing is, these children were all friends. They never left each other's sides.'

Ryan scratches his head. He can't believe the resemblance of this to the set of cases he's currently dealing with. There has to be a corroboration. There just has to be.

'Were any of these children ever found?'

His grandfather nods, before wheezing, more intensely than before. He grabs his throat and falls back on his pillow, his airways evidently blocked. The beeps of the machine begin to sky rocket. He thrashes in his bed as a swarm of nurses rush inside.

The Sheriff knows it's selfish, but the man has been hospitalised for the last week. Lung cancer. Diagnosed two years ago. His time is nearly up. So, if he doesn't get his answer soon, he fears he never will.

'Grandpa,' he whisper-yells, swerving around a nurse and facing him. He turns to the nurse. 'What's happening to him?'

'We're just trying to stabilise him. You need to leave.'

'Grandpa,' he repeats. 'Listen to me, this is really important, were any of those children ever found?'

'I'm sorry Sheriff,' says a doctor from behind. 'You're going to have to leave.'

With that, he clamps his hands on the police officer's shoulders and guides him toward the door. 'I just need to know something,' he protests.

The doctor eyes him sympathetically. 'You can ask once he's been stabilised. But for now, the nurses need to be left alone.' Then, a drape is pulled down, blocking his view of the room.

He drops to a seat in the corridor and looks toward the room, rocking his knee back and forth. Then, his walkie talkie buzzes and he presses it. 'Sheriff,' he says. 'Copy.'

'Sir,' a deputy says. 'Daniel Stone's parents are here, along with the parents of the other kids. Their son has disappeared, and they have requested to speak to you. Copy.'

He looks back toward his grandfather's hospital room, to his radio and scrunches his face up as he weighs his priorities up.

'Copy that,' he sighs. 'I'll be right there.'